


Thy Brother's Bed

by The Little MerBucky (blue_pointer)



Series: A Different Start [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asgardian style fisting, Brooklyn Boys, Bruce wants nothing to do with this, Bucky and Tony can't keep their hands off each other, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Clint is twelve years old, Coffee is necessary, Comedy, Domestic Avengers, Fisting, Fisting for great justice, Fraction Clint, Hints of Stucky, How to ruin your relationships by Steve Rogers, M/M, Nat refuses to play mom, Podfic Welcome, Pumbrella?, Sam says no, Shawarma, Sleepy Bucky, Sometimes Sam just sits back and enjoys the comedy, Steve is an old codger sometimes, Stony Feels, Team-building shawarma ritual, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor Is a Good Bro, Thor Wisdom, Tony gives good head, Vision is too innocent for all of this, When jumping from a high building seems like a good idea, buckyxtony, but some stucky, clueless Steve, controlling steve, everyone loves shawarma, except Steve, grumpy tony, kick drum heart, less stucky feels, mornings are the worst, sarcastic Nat, seriously though, spittakes, stonucky - Freeform, stuckony - Freeform, winteriron, winterironshield - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/The%20Little%20MerBucky
Summary: Sometimes the best part of waking up is shocking your teammates with TMI about your sex life. When Steve decides to lecture Bucky about "the right way" to have sex with Tony, Thor arrives to stop the brawl before it can start. Hilarity ensues, followed by shawarma.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure this takes place in the Kick Drum Heart universe, but don't even ask me where on the timeline it falls.

It’s morning. Time to up and at ‘em. Time to be productive. Something. Tony limps around the kitchen, making coffee for himself because clearly no one else is thoughtful enough to have left him any of the first pot--he glares at Barton--or make him a special batch the way he likes it--he glares at Steve, who’s reading the morning paper--an actual newspaper! Who reads paper papers anymore?!--over a giant stack of pancakes.

“Well someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Nat observes.

“I’m in a fine mood,” Tony snaps at her. “But it would be nice if someone took me into consideration sometime as you’re all enjoying breakfast in _my_ kitchen with _my_ food, and can’t even be bothered to push a button to make me an espresso.”

That finally gets Steve’s attention. “Sorry, Tony. Sorry.” He hops up and walks over to dither around with the espresso machine, still having no clue how to operate it after five years.

“No, don’t bother now, Cap,” Tony lays on the guilt. “It’s too late. I’m doing it myself. Like usual.”

“Where’s Buck?” Steve asks, probably not because he’s actually worried--everyone knows Barnes sleeps in in the mornings--but because Bucky’s usually the one waiting on Tony hand and foot without having to be asked or guilted into it first.

“In bed, sleeping, as you well know,” Tony tells him. “And he earned his beauty rest, so you just let him be.” Steve freezes in the process of tip-toeing out of the room to wake his best friend with morning sex. “ _Steven_.”

Busted, cap walks back into the kitchen.

“Sir, if you don’t mind the observation, you seem to have sustained minor injuries overnight.” Bless Vision’s limitless obliviousness. “Might I suggest an examination by Dr. Banner, just to make certain you’re in good health?”

Bruce wisely hides behind his juice, saying nothing.

“Junior, don’t volunteer poor Bruce to give me a once-over for sex injuries. Trust me, I’ve been doing sex first-aid for a couple of years now.”

Clint snorts into his coffee mug. “Couple of years. Yeah, and I’m Billy the Kid.”

Tony glares him down, continuing, “I can handle myself.”

“Sex...first...aid?” Vision is giving him one of those blank looks as he searches the world wide web for answers.

“Seriously, Tony,” Nat says. “You haven’t had the Talk with him yet?”

“I don’t need to have the Talk with him, Romanov. He’s got the world at his fingertips. Brain-tips. Whatever. That is, unless…” he smirks at her. “You’re volunteering to give it a woman’s touch?”

“You’re better at that sort of thing,” she smirks back.

“You guys aren’t fightin’ again, are you?” Steve asks, looking back and forth between the two of them, uncertain.

“Now look what you two did,” Clint mutters over his coffee mug. “You went and got dad involved.”

Luckily, they’re saved by the bird. Sam returns from his morning run just in the nick of time, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Hey, how’s everybody this morning?”

“Fantastic!” Tony says, stretching languidly before reaching for his first cup of caffeine. “No one can give a fisting like our winter soldier-boy.”

Clint’s coffee arcs out over the counter in a wide spray, through both nose and mouth, followed by some harsh coughing.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” Nat says sardonically, grabbing her smoothie and heading for the stairs. Clint is still trying to get air back into his windpipe. Vision looks confused.

“Izzat why you been limping around the kitchen this morning?” Steve asks, looking concerned. “Tony...you gotta be careful.”

“Oh, he was careful,” Tony smirks, self-satisfied, closing his eyes, remembering. “So very careful.”

“Welp. I am not examining that,” Bruce announces, desperately searching for the last custard filled donut so that he, too, can make good his escape.

“Speak of the devil.” Tony’s devious smile widens as Bucky stumbles into the main room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Good morning, sugarbear,” Tony smirks, walking over to intercept him before he trips over furniture in his half-awake state.

Steve isn’t far behind. “Buck, we need to talk.”

“Huh?” Bucky’s eyes are almost open. “What izzit, Steve?” Even half-asleep, his arm goes automatically around Tony, who leans against him, sipping espresso, batting his eyelashes at cap, waiting to see if they’re going to fight over him again.  

“You gotta be careful with Tony. We’ve talked about this.” Bucky is squeezing his eyes shut and open, trying to wake up enough to see Steve.

Once he’s sure Clint isn’t going to choke on his coffee, Sam slides into Steve’s abandoned chair and starts eating what’s left of his pancakes as he watches the show.  

“Huh?” Bucky holds onto Tony, who’s practically wiggling with anticipation.

“You and me are a lot stronger than him,” Steve lectures. “Compared to us, he’s fragile. You can’t just go at him like you do with me.” Bucky’s staring at Cap now, and he doesn’t look happy. “If you aren’t careful, you could hurt him.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Steve?” Bucky asks, feeling like Steve is implying he shouldn’t have sex with Tony anymore. And he’s not about to take that lying down.

“Buck, just look at him!” Steve gestures at Tony, as if he’s an invalid in a wheelchair. “He’s been limpin’ around the kitchen all morning, because you--” Steve has a hard time naming sex acts, even _during_ said sex acts. He drops his voice low, whispering, “fisted him last night.” Then he raises his voice again. “And that’s not right, Buck. That’s irresponsible.”

“Irresponsible?!” Bucky and Tony repeat in unison.

“Human bodies aren’t made to have stuff stuck up there like that. It’s not safe! It’s unnatural!”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cap!” Tony snaps. “If you knew half the stuff I’ve fit up there over the years, you’d blow a gasket. Calm down. It was just a little fisting.”

“He asked me to!” Bucky says, indignant, still holding Tony close, as if Steve might try to take him away.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. “You really do everything Tony asks you to?”

“Yes!” Tony answers for him, wrapping his free arm around Bucky. “He’s a good boyfriend like that. Unlike SOME people!”

But Steve is still focused on his best pal. “Come on, Buck. Tony’s careless and self-destructive. You said so yourself.”

Tony turns to glare at Bucky. “Did you say that?” he asks, stepping away stiff-legged, like an angry cat.

“No.” Bucky looks stricken, reaching for Tony. “That’s not what I said.” His eyes shoot daggers at Steve. “Don’t take shit out of context, asshole!”

“Oh, so I’M the asshole, but it’s okay if you just injure our boyfriend with irresponsible sex!”

“I dislike conflict,” Vision announces, floating off down the hall.

“Irresponsible!” Clint chortles into his coffee mug, both horrified and amused. Sam sets his fork down, seeing that he’s going to have to break this up before it gets serious.

“Irresponsible?” Tony’s eyebrows are doing calisthenics, trying to figure out what the hell Steve’s implying.

“Stevie, sex ain’t supposed to be responsible! It’s SEX!” Bucky says.

“Oh, COME on, Buck!” Steve turns, glancing around the room for help. “Bruce, you’re a doctor. Would you say putting your fist up someone’s...derriere is responsible?”

“Derriere. Oo la la,” Clint grins, having given up on his coffee and turned in his chair to watch the show. He never ceases to be amused by cap’s struggles not to use foul language. Sam grins over at him. It _is_ pretty funny.

“Hey, keep me out of your lover’s quarrels,” Bruce says, backing away, having given up on the last donut. “All your talk of fists is making the green guy real nervous.” And with that, he makes a break for the elevator. Clint laughs, applauding his exit.

“There.” Steve turns back to Bucky. “You happy? You’re about to bring out the green guy with your irresponsible fisting.”

Tony isn’t sure if he’s incredibly pleased, being the center of so much attention, or more angry at Cap for trying to control his sex life. He’s just about to tell Steve to go to hell, when Thor strides into the room.

“Fisting?” he booms. “Did someone say fisting? Why, I’ve always enjoyed a good fisting!”

With a screech of breathless laughter, Sam falls off his stool and literally rolls on the floor. Clint snorts so hard, he inhales more coffee, and starts his spewing and choking routine all over again.

Steve is dangerously red in the face. “Um. Hey, big guy. Actually--”

“In Asgard, we fist for great justice!” he strides over, smiling widely, raising one meaty fist into the air. “To fisting!”

Now even Tony and Bucky lose it, clinging to one another as a fit of giggles overtakes them. The visuals...oh, the visuals!

Steve seems to be the only sane person in the room. He blinks several times, willing the heat in his cheeks to dissipate. “No, see. You don’t understand...”

A large, muscular arm claps him on the shoulder, then wraps around Steve in a gentle--but frighteningly strong--headlock. “A word of advice from someone millennia older than yourself, friend Steve,” Thor tells him, blue eyes twinkling down, good-naturedly. “Let thy brother’s bed be his own affair.” He nods, kind.

Perhaps to test this advice, Tony and Bucky, who’ve fallen to the floor laughing, are now making out like teenagers, in spite of company.

“But--!” Steve points at them, indignant.

“Heed your elders, friend Steve,” Thor says, tugging him away from the sight which is obviously upsetting him. “You will rest easier at night. Take my word.”

Sam wipes his eyes, climbing back onto the stool. He pushes Steve’s plate of pancakes toward him. “You know, for a 7-foot-tall alien who could star in a shampoo commercial, he’s got a point.” He offers Steve a sympathetic smile.

But Steve isn’t having it. He’s in charge. Of everyone. At all times. “Well I don’t have to like it,” he grumbles, stabbing at his pancakes with a fork.

“Man. Watching you single-handedly fucking up your relationships is actually giving me perspective on my failed marriage,” Clint says.

Steve squints at him, smiling sarcastically. “Thanks for the great advice, Flatbush.”

“Fuck you, DUMBO,” Clint shoots back with a good natured bird-flip.

“Friends, friends!” Thor grabs everyone in a crushing group hug. “Let us not fight between us! Instead, let us all perform the ancient team-building ritual of shawarma!”

“Shawarma?” Sam asks. “But it’s 8 in the morning!”

“Oo, shawarma actually sounds pretty good,” Clint says, hopping off his stool and grabbing his jacket.

“Did you not know, friend Falcon? Shawarma is a ritual which can be performed at any hour of day or night!”

Sam thinks for a moment. “You bang on the window until they open, don’t you?”

“On the contrary!” Thor replies. “Friend Ahmet has schooled me in the fine art of shawarma, so that I may now come and perform this ritual without waking him or his wife!” He looks ridiculously proud of himself.

“Did someone say shawarma?” Bruce was returning for the donut after all, hoping the coast was clear by now. His eyes widen a little as he edges past Tony and Bucky entangled on the living room floor.

“Friend Bruce!” Thor booms. “Wilt thou join us in the honored tradition of shawarma?”

“But it’s--” Bruce suddenly realizes who he’s talking to and thinks better of it. “I mean, heck yes!”

“Shawarma?” Nat sticks her head over the second floor railing.

“Join us, little spider!” Thor urges with a dazzling smile.

Vision floats hesitantly back into the room. “I, too, wish to try this shawarma delicacy of which you speak.”

“Join us!”

“But what about--” Steve glances back in the direction of Bucky and Tony.

“No doubt they will join us after their enthusiastic coupling!” Thor assures him, which isn’t very reassuring to Steve. “Shawarma is the perfect post-coital repast!”

“Seriously, though, I’m just gonna take the elevator from up here,” Nat tells him, trying hard not to look at the living room floor.

“Yeah, that’s--not a bad idea.” Bruce heads for the stairs to join her.

“Right behind you!” Clint calls.

“Hah-hah! A race, then! Come, friends!” Thor still has a firm grip on Steve and Sam. With no more warning than that, he sprints for the balcony and jumps off.

“But I don’t even like shawarma!” Steve protests.

“What was wrong with taking the damn elevator?!” Sam’s scream fades into the distance as they fall out of view.

Tony glances up for a moment. “Did you hear something?”

Bucky opens his eyes, dazed with lust. “Wha-huh?”

“You’re right,” Tony tells him. “It’s nothing,” and returns to performing one of his favorite activities. At Avengers Tower, everyone had their own favorite breakfast.


End file.
